


Monster Man

by AGByrne



Series: A Man Named Loki [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Exes, F/M, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt/Comfort, I know it's not 2012 anymore but let me have this, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki doesn't say mewling quim in this one, Mostly Canon Compliant, Mythology References, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Reading, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Sickfic, Slow Burn, Song fic, Stabbing, Thor: The Dark World
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:22:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25143082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGByrne/pseuds/AGByrne
Summary: Nearly a year after the events of Magic Man, the reader is trying to start a new life after Loki abandoned her and she learned the truth about him. But will her past, or Loki ever really stop haunting her? And more importantly, does she even want it to?Based on the song Would You Love a Monster Man by Lordi which I keep promising myself I'm going to record an acoustic cover of one of these days... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bpg_UOc-_a0
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Loki/Female Reader, Loki/OFC, Loki/Reader
Series: A Man Named Loki [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566745
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	1. Illusions

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty it is back!!! This fic has been my baby for two years - oft-neglected baby but baby nonetheless, and I finally got past the writer's block on the third part to post the first chapter of the second part! So... yeah... If you haven't read Magic Man yet, there is some background in there you might want so please check it out!

A little over a year later I was living on my own, in another city, in another state, as far removed from that whirlwind fling with Loki as I could possibly get. It was something in between witness protection and exile, my new identity a constant reminder of how thoroughly Loki had destroyed my old life. If I had known what he would do, if I had had any idea of his true nature... I wish I could say I never would have gone home with him from the bar that night, but that probably wasn’t the truth. I’d been attracted to him like a moth to a flame, and if he’d been the devil himself I would still have fallen in love with him. The time we’d spent together was the happiest time of my life, despite it being my deepest shame. He was a monster, yet I loved him, and I hated myself for it. Maybe he was the devil…

Seeing him on the news, raining fire down on New York, I could hardly believe it was the man who I’d been living with. His beautiful eyes full of dark animalistic rage, his talented hands bringing pain just as easily as they brought pleasure, his seductive lips abandoning poetry for threats and taunts. And I still wanted him. Still loved him. I realized that he was no more than a beast, and I his prey, yet I imagined him coming back for me nearly every day.

Only this time when I turned around to see him standing in my home, my breath caught in my throat. He was real. He was here. I backed up slowly until my back hit the edge of a cabinet, slowly easing open the drawer and pulling out a gun. I aimed it at him with shaky hands, but he just grinned.

“Are you going to shoot me?” He asked in that mocking tone I remembered so well.

“Maybe,” I answered honestly, “You’re a murderer.”

“I am. I don’t believe you are, but you could always fire that gun and prove me wrong.” He held my gaze for a few moments before I relented and returned the weapon to its place in the drawer.

“Are you here to kill me?”

He shook his head, “No. Your death would not benefit me in any way.”

“How romantic,” I scoffed.

“I’m not here to romance you.”

“Well, what are you here for? You lie to me, you make me your freaking mistress, you disappear for weeks without a word and leave me to find out from the news that you tried to invade and subjugate my planet? S.H.I.E.L.D. came and arrested me, interrogated me as your ACCOMPLICE and then after months of that hell they let me leave, but only if I agreed to go into witness protection. To change my name, leave everything I’ve ever known behind. And I would have considered saying no, except for the fact that everything I owned, everyone I knew, every single bit of my old life was destroyed. By you! By you and your damned alien army.” I stopped and bit my lip in an attempt to stop the hot, angry tears before continuing in a half-whisper, “My… my mom... she was in a plane... on her way to see me incidentally. Because she was worried about me being with you. Chitauri killed her. And I bet you don’t even care. Do you? Would you do it all again? Even knowing that you’d lose? Knowing that all those people would die and you’d still end up with nothing?”

He answered quietly, “Yes.”

I took a deep shuddering breath. “You really are a monster,” I murmured.

Pain and rage flashed across his face in quick succession. “You want to see a monster?” He shouted, the temperature dropping as his voice rose, “I’ll show you a monster!”

His eyes turned blood red, his skin turned blue, and patterns raised up on his face. “I was born a monster,” he snarled, as if to further illustrate just how far from human he really was, “My parents were Frost Giants who abandoned me on a cold hard rock in the midst of a battle to die, and I when I found out I killed my father for it. I come from a lineage of conquerors and murderers whose trail of horrors only stopped when Odin stepped in with legions of Asgardian warriors, and not only am I a member of that monstrous race, I am their rightful king. In my true form I can kill you fragile mortals with a single touch of my hand. So if you think me cold-blooded,” he said, extending his hand and forming ice crystals on the tips of his fingers, “You have no idea how right you truly are.”

I shook my head, “No,” I said, stepping closer and thrusting my finger towards his face, “No, you chose to become a monster. You chose to murder those people in Stuttgart. You chose to open up the sky and bring those Chitauri through to do God knows what! You threw away your humanity - or Asgardianity or whatever- when you did that! I don’t care what you are or who you are or what you were born as, at some point in your life you had a choice to do the right thing and you chose this.”

He laughed, a cold, cruel laugh, “But why would I choose to be good, when being a monster, being evil, is just so much more fun? I warned you when we first met; I’m the god of mischief. You didn’t listen. You saw the god and turned a blind eye to the devil. If you think I suddenly went dark after our time together, think again, because the trail of bodies I leave behind didn’t start in New York or Stuttgart, or even on earth. I’ve been killing and wounding and torturing and maiming since before you were born, since before your grandparents were born. I’ve murdered more people then you ever met. The human blood shed in New York is a mere drop in the ocean of blood I’ve spilled. I’ve seen and experienced and inflicted horrors beyond the scope of your limited imagination and do you want to know why?” He stepped closer to me and whispered in my ear, “Because I enjoyed it.”

I fought back tears as I reached out to slap his face, but my hand went straight through him like smoke. As the illusion flickered I heard a voice from the darkest corner of the room, “Surely you didn’t think I would trust you with a body you could hurt?” The voice moved back to the mouth of the clone as it continued, “I haven’t seen you in nearly a year and you’ve been in the hands of S.H.I.E.L.D., I had no idea what you would be willing to do to me.”

“Well now that you know the worst I’ll do is give you a well-deserved slap in the face, why don’t you come out of that corner?” I taunted.

The voice from the shadows answered as the illusion dissipated completely, “Because in my current state, even a slap might well be the end of me. I didn’t just come here to monologue about my tragic past or provoke you into revealing your true feelings for me. I came here because I need your help. I came to you because I’m dying and for some unfathomable reason you’re the only person still alive whom I would want by my side should that actually happen.” He stepped, or rather staggered, out of the shadows, blood seeping through his fingers where he clutched at his chest, and draining down onto the floor, his pale skin paler than usual from the blood loss. “Surprise,” he said weakly, “And if this affects your decision at all, the world ending catastrophe my idiot brother was able to stave off in England was prevented largely due to my heroic sacrifice.”

“What decision? I have no reason to help you, or trust you.” I said in a hoarse near-whisper, “How do I know this isn’t just another illusion?”

“You shouldn’t trust me,” he answered darkly, “Not now or ever. I will lie to you. Without regret, without hesitation, if I think it will benefit me in the least, I will lie to you. I will say whatever I need to to get my way. And I am a talented liar. I am the silver-tongue, the wordsmith, god of mischief and lies. If you trust me, if you trust even a word I say, I’ll just break your heart again. So don’t agree to this under any false pretenses. I’m not changing or apologizing. I’m not honest and I am certainly no hero. But you are. You’re far too...good... to let me bleed to death... on... your... carpet.” His voice had began to slur and fade on the last few words, and he slumped to the ground with a sickening thud.

He was right. Even if he was a complete stranger I wouldn’t have been able to let him die, and I loved him. God help me, I still loved him. Whether it was Stockholm’s or I was attracted to the the darkness I couldn’t say, but none of that mattered right now because his heart wasn’t beating. At least I knew CPR.

“C’mon Loki,” I whispered as I lowered my lips to his, trying to block out the memories that brought back. I watched his chest rise and fall twice before I placed my hands on his chest and began compressions, “1, 2, 3... C’mon breathe for me. Breathe. 28, 29, 30.” I drew in another shuddery breath and exhaled into his lifeless body, “You can’t die on me now dammit! Come back you selfish bastard, I’m not through with you yet!” The tears were flowing freely now, falling onto my hands and mixing with the blood that now covered them. 30 more compressions, 2 more rescue breaths. I tried not to think about what would happen if he didn’t come back after 5 times…

But he did come back. He was coughing and mumbling incoherently, but he was alive.

I decided it was probably not a good idea to drag him anywhere else, so I ran to get him a pillow and some blankets. The last thing I needed was for him to go into shock. When I came back I froze in surprise. A regal woman with golden curly hair was kneeling at his side, singing a lullaby in a language I couldn’t understand, yet it was so beautiful it almost hurt to listen. Loki was looking at her with so much love, and so much despair. “My fault,” he moaned, “Mother, it’s all my fault. My fault you’re dead.” He swore in what I assumed to be the same language as the lullaby. She rose to her feet, never taking her eyes off him, and still smiling that loving smile. 

Suddenly a figure appeared behind her and her eyes went wide with terror as it wrapped an arm around her neck and ran her a sword through her back. I gasped and Loki screamed in anguish as both figures turned to blood, then into shimmering gold light, then disintegrated. Why he would conjure an illusion so gruesome, which caused him such pain, was beyond me, but I quickly knelt at his side and wrapped him in the blanket, stroking his cheek and shushing him softly, “It wasn’t real, Loki, it wasn’t real.”

“But it was. It happened, she’s dead, all my fault...” he wept as he slipped back into unconsciousness.


	2. Stories

It was a touch and go for a few days but thanks in part to my nursing skills, and in part to Loki’s Frost Giant physiology, he survived. When he first woke up he was gasping, clawing at his chest and frowning in confusion when he found a Ziploc bag secured with athletic tape.

“Makeshift chest seal,” I explained from my spot on the couch, “Thank you, Google. Don’t pull it off. There’s one on your back too. Whatever stabbed you went all the way through. I have no clue how you survived.”

“Who is this Google and how do you know you can trust them?” He asked.

I rolled my eyes, “Google’s a search engine. On the Internet?” He stared blankly and I tried to think how to explain Google to an immortal-ish alien, “It’s not alive and it can’t tell anyone. Well, S.H.I.E.L.D. could check my search history but honestly ‘how to treat a stab wound to the chest?’ isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve ever searched.”

He groaned and tried to roll over onto his back, but found that he was secured by too many pillows, “What in Hel?”

I shrugged, “Google said to keep you on your side.”

“Why are you helping me?” He asked, his piercing gaze searching my face for any sign of a lie.

“Because I’m ‘far too good to let you bleed to death on my carpet?’” I sighed, “Believe me, I’ve asked myself the same question a hundred times. Why didn’t I let you die, or at least turn you over to S.H.I.E.L.D.? I know I should have. I know that’s the right thing to do. I know that you murdered hundreds of people and I know that you’ve shown no regret for what you did. But when you showed me your true form, when you told me your story... That’s what made me want to help you. For whatever reason, you’ve been told you were a monster, or treated like one for so long that you started to believe it. But you’re not. You’ve done some horrible things but I think you’re still lashing out against whatever it is that hurt you. And maybe if someone gives you a second chance, sees you as something other than the xenocidal maniac who attacked New York... Maybe you’ll be able to prove to yourself that you aren’t a monster. And if you can do that, then maybe you can start to make amends for everything you’ve done.”

“So you think if you can heal me then I will heal the world, is that it?” He asked sarcastically.

Not exactly, but I was too exhausted to argue so I just shrugged.

He sneered, “What a simplistically human notion.”

I shook my head, “I know what you’re doing Loki. You’re manipulating me, trying to see how much you have to hurt or anger me before I abandon you. But you can give up right now because if invading my planet and slaughtering my people didn’t push me away nothing will.” I paused for a moment before adding, “I still haven’t forgiven you for that, you know. Maybe I never will. I don’t think I should. But at least now I understand a little bit of why.”

He sullenly avoided my gaze.

“So apparently a chest wound this severe is supposed to take a couple months to recover, but with you... I'm guessing about... 3 weeks?” I asked.

He nodded, “At least 3 weeks.”

“I don’t know if S.H.I.E.L.D. still monitors me, I don’t know who hurt you and if they’re looking for you... I’ll do my best to protect you but I can’t make any promises.”

He laughed and then winced in pain, “It is adorable that you actually think you could protect me, little mortal, but I assure you, you are in no danger from outside forces. Everyone by now will assume I’m dead. I was careful coming here and I left a clone of my corpse on Nilfheim. Should S.H.I.E.L.D. decide to come investigate you I should be able to cast a powerful enough illusion to protect you. You’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” I said, deciding to trust him on at least this much, “Then you’re welcome to stay here until you recover.”

\---

Whether S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t know Loki had returned to Earth or just didn’t care was anyone’s guess, but they didn’t send anyone after him, and I never saw any aliens lurking behind my hydrangeas either. Apparently Loki had told the truth for once.

Loki was grumpy, spoiled, and very over-dramatic for a hardened warrior. He whined when I changed the dressing on his wounds, complained about the programs I watched on Netflix, muttered Asgardian curses under his breath whenever he was reminded of the fact that he had to lie still, and sometimes made me feel as though I was caring for a toddler instead of a thousand year old Norse deity. He liked reading though, so as soon as he could sit up and hold a book I brought him stacks and stacks of them from the local library. Poetry, action, romance, horror… He liked The Phantom of the Opera. He liked Shakespeare, The Odyssey, Anna Karenina. I decided to use my trips to the library to pick up books on Norse language and Norse Mythology. After a few hours of sitting on opposite ends of the couch, reading one of these books quietly, I finally worked up the courage to ask Loki about something I had been curious about since the first time we’d had sex.

“So… you got knocked up by a horse?”

“What?” Loki asked, nearly dropping the book he was holding.

“It says here that you turned into a mare, had sex with a horse, got pregnant, and gave birth to a six legged foal.”

“Give me that,” he said, nearly snatching it from me and squinting at the page. He scanned it quickly and then his face cleared, “Oh, Svaðilfari,” he said with a grin, “He was Aesir, but a talented sorcerer who could shape-shift, and he often took the form of a horse in order to pass through enemy territory undetected.”

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously and he laughed at me.“So when you two had sex…”

“Put your dirty little mind at ease, we were in humanoid form. I was sometimes a woman during our encounters but I assure you, I have never given birth to a six legged horse. I merely gave Svaðilfari a foal as a parting gift. Your Midgardian legends exaggerate greatly, but they seem to have their base in facts.”

“Are you offended by them?” I asked.

“I haven’t read enough to know,” he said carefully, “But so far I’m amused by them.”

“Do you think Svad- Swad-”

“Svaðilfari.”

“Do you think he’d find them funny?”

“I believe he’d find it incredibly humorous. And he would probably joke about being mistaken for a horse because he was built like a stallion,” Loki laughed, then winced in pain and clutched his side.

I furrowed my brow in concern and rose out of my chair to go over and check the bandage.

“I’m alright,” he reassured me softly. He had an indiscernible look in his eyes as he stared at me for a moment before commanding, “Read them to me.”

“What?”

“Your ‘Norse Mythology.’ This wound makes holding a book tiresome but I want to hear the rest of these tales. Besides,” he added with a smile, “I like hearing your voice.”

“But I can’t pronounce most of these names!” I protested, a little embarrassed at the idea of reading myths about Loki to Loki, but unwilling to say no to his puppy-dog-eyes.

“Then I shall simply have to teach you their proper pronunciations as we go along. And every time we reach the end of a story I’ll tell you how it really happened. Deal?”

I chewed my lip and thought for a moment before deciding this really was an offer I couldn’t refuse. “Deal.”

He patted the spot on the couch next to him, but I hesitated. I’d been trying to maintain physical distance in an attempt to keep the memories at bay, and I really didn’t need any reawakened feelings complicating an already difficult situation.

Loki wasn’t hearing any objections and he stated very logically, “Come now, how am I going to read the words you mispronounce if you’re sitting so far away?”

So against my better judgement I sat down on the couch beside him, picked up the book, and began to read.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of today being Election Day in the US, I am writing and going to try to post an update chapter to all of my fanfics. I hope this provides a little distraction for you. Please remember no matter what the results of this election are there will always be people fighting, loving, persisting, resisting, and existing. You will not be forgotten or left behind, and the darkness cannot last forever. <3

I was far from an expert on Asgard or even Norse mythology, but after reading to Loki for a few weeks I certainly felt a little more knowledgeable. He even opened up about his childhood a little bit. He spoke a lot about Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three. He told me about battles and feasts, the legends and the complicated truths behind them. He said conspicuously little about Odin, however. I felt a loneliness in his words, not in what he said, but what he didn’t say, the emptiness in his words mirroring the emptiness in his life where love should have been. I knew that emptiness far too well. I’d tried to forgive my mother after her death, but forgetfulness was a merciful sacrament denied to me. Or perhaps I was the one denying it to her.

Finally one day he told me the entire story of the fight against the Dark Elves, how they had tried to take advantage of the effects of the Convergence to draw the Aether out of Jane Foster and use its power to plunge the universe into darkness, how he and Thor had fought them and how he’d fallen, impaled willingly on the Kursed’s blade. How he’d awoken on a cold and empty planet to find that Thor had moved onto another battle, and that he hadn’t been granted the hero’s death he wanted. How he pulled himself up to his feet and used his own blood to create a portal which dropped him in my living room. He looked almost shyly into my eyes at that point.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand though,” I said, as he finished his tale.

He laughed, “Only one thing, little mortal?”

“That woman you conjured right after you died and came back... Who was she?”

From the way his entire face fell I knew I had struck a nerve, “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied.

“Older woman, attractive, blonde hair, clothes straight out of a Renaissance festival? Not ringing any bells?”

He shook his head.

“Well, you were still delirious after I resuscitated you but you were coherent enough to conjure her. She was just standing there and someone, or something, came up behind her and killed her. You screamed in such agony. Before that she was singing to you. It was the only time I’ve ever seen you look... at peace.”

His lips quivered.

“You called her mother. And... you also said she died... and that it was your fault.”

A tear trickled down Loki’s cheek, but he remained silent.

“Stop lying to me,” I whispered, “Please, Loki, just tell me the truth for once.”

“She was my mother,” he explained hoarsely, “Not my real mother. Frigga. Wife of Odin. The woman who raised me. She showed far more love than the giantess who left me to die on a frozen rock. Never showed favoritism to me or Thor, tried to shield me from the Allfather’s wrath but she… She died, she was… I killed her.”

As shocked as I was to hear her name for the first time, I had to focus on one thing at a time, “Loki, that thing which came up behind her... it didn’t look like you.”

“A Kursed.” He laughed bitterly, “No, I did not slay my mother with my own hand but I showed that… monster the way to her. Her blood is as much on my hands as was his when I killed him.”

“But you avenged her?”

“Vengeance means nothing when I could have prevented her murderer and chose instead to aid him.”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly, reaching out to brush a hair from his forehead.

“You really mean that, don’t you?” He asked, his forehead wrinkled in genuine confusion.

“Yes, I do. Why does that surprise you?”

He shook his head, “It has been a very long time since anyone other than Mother showed me any kindness at all. Living in Asgard, younger brother to the mighty Thor, those around me shunned me and showed me only disregard and annoyance which rather quickly evolved into coldness and hostility. Perhaps that’s why I have always searched for my place. For a throne.”

“Probably. But you can’t expect people who you terrified and murdered into subjugation to love you, and no unruly dictatorship is going to fill the hole in your heart. You’ve got to swallow your pride and actually let somebody in. And, y’know, stop stabbing people.”

He laughed at that, and I was happy to notice that he didn’t seem to be in as much pain from his wound afterwards.

“You’re better.”

“Thanks in no small measure to your care.”

I blushed, “I did my best but… You’re very resilient.”

He nodded. “True, but that does not diminish my gratitude in the slightest. I am painfully aware of the fact that my heart was mended by the woman whose heart I broke.”

I gasped a little at the wave of emotion that crashed over me. I really hadn’t expected him to ever admit that or for it to affect me as much as it did. I felt frozen, unable to move or speak or stop the tears from flooding down my cheeks.

He leaned forward and wiped my tears away, then sat back.

“Loki I…” I took a deep breath and continued, “I really can’t talk about this right now. I mean, I thought I was better, I thought I was… But obviously I’m not and I can’t process this right now so can we just… agree to talk about it another time?”

He nodded, “Read to me?” He asked.

I nodded and picked up the book. I would have given him my heart, or the world, or whatever else he asked for, so of course I couldn’t deny him this small thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed this even though it's not quite as lighthearted as part one. Be on the lookout for the next chapter soon! <3


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